


Lands of Camelot

by Loopstagirl



Category: Merlin (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-03 21:02:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 7,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1756957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loopstagirl/pseuds/Loopstagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles spread across Camelot's lands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Camelot

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners.
> 
> A series of Drabbles for the "Big One" challenge for Camelot Land.

He had heard stories about it. Everyone had. The great kingdom, the place where magic would be destroyed if things continued the way they were.

He never thought that he would see it though.

Its reputation proceeded it; anyone with magic was caught and put to death, no matter how careful they were.

So the last thing that Merlin expected was for his mother to tell him that he was leaving. Or, more important, leaving for Camelot.  
The only thought that managed to enter Merlin’s head was why?

It didn’t matter how much he argued and pleaded, his mother was firm. He didn’t realise she had found out that Will had discovered his secret. Merlin didn’t see why it was a problem; this was the happiest he had felt for years. But apparently it was too dangerous and he was better off somewhere else. But what still didn’t make sense, even now as he was trudging up a hill and scrambling through brambles, was why she thought that Camelot would be a good place to send him.

Merlin was clumsy, it was a known fact. The hope that he would grow out of it had long since fled their minds. He knew he would slip up and accidentally turn the king into a toad or something dramatic that would have him losing his head before it had even stopped spinning. He knew he was going to hate it there, and then he would be able to go home miserable, make his mother feel guilty and she would never send him away again.

That was his plan.

But the second he stepped onto the path leading into the centre of the kingdom, he felt that plan drift out of his mind as if it had never been formed. He had expected a terrible place; dark, gloomy and cold. Screams would constantly fill the air and weapons would be drawn everywhere.

What he didn’t expect, however, was the sheer beauty of the place that appeared in front of him. The sun was gleaming of the turrets, the castle standing tall and proud as they stood guard over the bustling town below. People milled around on everyday business, barely sparing Merlin a glance as he weaved between them. There was no fear in their eyes, no hint as to the misery the kingdom was told to bring. They looked happy, at peace.

Merlin stopped where he was, catching the rays of the sun and finding a smile unfurling on his face. He could manage to live here, he was sure of it. Even his clumsiness would go unnoticed – people were everywhere and it wasn’t as if he was going to be even close to anyone important for it to be a problem. Merlin let the tension out of his shoulders and took a deep breath.

He could do this.

He would prove to his mother that, despite what she clearly thought, he could survive anywhere. Full of determination, Merlin took another step forward.

  
And that was when the screaming started.


	2. Sigan's Tomb

            Morgana shivered as she stepped closer into the tomb. Sigan’s Tomb had been sealed up ever since they had defeated the sorcerer, but Morgause wanted to know if there was any objects of interest still hidden within. She had taught Morgana the words to gain entrance without anyone knowing she had been there, and the king’s ward had ventured down the first chance that she had.

            The torch burning brightly in her hand only caused the shadows to flicker threateningly. Jewels and gold still littered the floor, giving away her movements as her shoe caught them and caused them to rattle against each other. She kept moving though. Riches she already had, she was after something worth far more than that.

            Although her nightmares meant she didn’t remember much of the time when the sorcerer had risen, she recalled Arthur talking about the traps all over the tomb. It had just been the two of them and his face had lit up with boyish excitement. Morgana had listened in fond amusement and….

            No.

            She couldn’t think like that.

            Arthur was the enemy. She was searching this tomb for something that would bring about his downfall. Both him and his father. Unbidden, her eyes were drawn towards the tomb itself, but the enchanted heart had never been returned. She didn’t know what had happened to it; no one did. Forcing herself to look away, Morgana searched the rest of the tomb.

            It was pointless. The heart seemed to be the only magical thing that had ever been found here. Only the precious stones and jewels remained, and Morgana knew full well that was not what her sister required. Turning on her heel, Morgana froze.

            She could have sworn she had heard a whisper. Not a word, nothing had been clear. Just a sound behind her that made her feel as if she wasn’t alone. But unlike the last time this tomb had been opened, she wasn’t defenceless. She allowed her power to fill her up as she waved the torch, spinning on the spot. Its light illuminated nothing that she hadn’t already seen, however. Yet Morgana couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone down here.

            It was silly. No one would dare come here, it was forbidden. So why was the back of her neck prickling and her heart pounding so hard that she was struggling to hold onto her magic? There was nothing here for her to take to Morgause, so Morgana hurried from the tomb and made sure she sealed it after her.

            As she hurried away, an unpleasant thought entered her mind. What if the heart wasn’t the only thing to have been enchanted? What if the tomb itself was? It certainly explained the noise and the feeling? Even so, it didn’t matter anymore. She would simply tell Morgause there was nothing there and say nothing more. Her sister didn’t need to know Morgana was jumping at shadows any more than she needed to know Morgana had thought back to a conversation with Arthur as fondness.

            If Morgause wanted the tomb searched more thoroughly, she would just have to do it herself.


	3. Tintagel

            Arthur stared at the castle in front of him.

            Tintagel.

            His mother’s home.

            He had never been here. For years he didn’t know where his mother had originated from until his constant pestering of Gaius had finally paid off and the old man had given him just enough to stop his questions. But with his father’s health failing and his uncle coming to court, Arthur had felt the time was right to learn more about his mother.

            From what he understood, this was even the castle where his existence had begun. He knew his parents had travelled; he had heard stories. But he never considered his creation might have happened somewhere other than Camelot. It was a strange though, one he wasn’t entirely happy thinking.

            “Why are you blushing?”

            “Shut up, _Mer_ lin.” Not for the first time, Arthur found himself wondering why he had thought to bring his manservant on this trip with him. It was nothing official, he could have travelled entirely alone. As it was, it was just the two of them. Arthur had forbidden any guards to join them.

            But as he finally tore his gaze away from the castle and glanced at Merlin, he knew why Merlin was here. It wasn’t even as if Arthur had asked him to come, Merlin had just assumed he would be travelling with the prince and Arthur hadn’t told him otherwise. But apart from his mother’s seal, this was the closest he had ever been to feeling like he knew something about the woman.

            And he hadn’t wanted to do it alone.

            “Let’s get closer,” he murmured, nudging his horse into a walk and beginning to pick his way down the small slope they had paused on. Merlin, for once, didn’t say anything but simply followed. Arthur was glad. Now certain thoughts had been banished from his mind, he was experiencing strange emotions about coming here.

            By feeling like he was getting closer to his mother, Arthur felt more and more like a small boy rather than a prince. A prince, however, who was almost running the kingdom while his father was indisposed. Before he knew what he was doing, he had halted again. He had only just reached the bottom of the hill, a grassy plain still separated him from the castle that was technically his by inheritance.

            “You don’t have to do this now,” a soft voice spoke in his ear. Arthur knew there was no mocking tone to Merlin’s words this time, yet the prince still squared his shoulders.

            “Yes, I do.”

            There were questions that he needed answering before his father passed on. While Arthur was claiming that the king would recover to anyone who asked, he was no fool. He knew the man he had called father may never regain his wits. He wanted to know about his mother, before it was too late.

            Once more moving forward, Arthur broke into a canter, just to make sure his nerves didn’t have the chance to flee from him again.

            It was time to reclaim what was his.


	4. Tomb Of Ashkanar

            Stories surrounded the impenetrable fortress rising from the gloom of the forest. Legends were born here. And for good reason.

            No one knew the true story of Ashkanar, only that he was rumoured to have hidden a great treasure with him. Man’s greed knew no bounds considering the item in question was not something that had ever belonged to him. Dragons were free and masterless, only forced to answer to the Dragon Lords. For an egg to be stolen in such a manner…

            Kilgarrah had circled the tomb for years. He had heard the stories. He wasn’t always imprisoned deep under Camelot. As a young dragon, he had travelled far and wide, hearing stories. When his kin began to die out (in other words; be killed) he had vowed to find any of the eggs that were unaccounted for.

            He had failed.

            Most had been destroyed before he was able to reach them and it was then that he knew he would be forced to roam the earth for all eternity. That had been when he had heard the whisper about this tomb and had immediately set out to secure the egg’s freedom.

            But he was too late there as well.      

            There was no way he could get into the fortress. Any attack from the sky would likely bring the whole structure down and he would rather the egg remained untouched than destroyed the way so many others had. And Ashkanar was smart; there was no way the entrance would have been left open. Even if Kilgarrah could influence a human, he knew they would never survive the trials.

            He just had to find the right one.

            So when a young warlock stumbled into his life, he knew the time had come. More important matters had to come first, and if he was honest, Kilgarrah forgot about the remaining egg as he battled for freedom and revenge. But when Merlin appeared to him one night with his young eyes shining with excitement as he asked whether it was true or not, the Great Dragon knew that fate might be changing once again.

            This was a man with the power to enter the tomb. It was a foreboding place; not one that many ventured near. It’s obscure and hidden location meant few even knew of its existence. But the fact that someone had gone to the old physician, allowing Merlin to overhear… Kilgarrah knew there would be no stopping him. Merlin had the stubbornness and determination of dragons, he would get that egg no matter what. It was his duty as a Dragon Lord.

            But when Kilgarrah saw – from a distance – a great plume of smoke signalling the tomb’s destruction, he had absolutely no way of knowing whether the young warlock had been successful or not. All he could do was wait to be summoned.

            Wait and hope that the magic used in creating the tomb hadn’t been stronger than the warlock. Wait, hope and wish beyond anything that one egg at least could be saved.

            If that happened… Then there was hope for them all.


	5. Isle of Mora

            Arthur reigned his horse in. Camelot was a day’s ride north to them now that they were approaching their destination. He heard Merlin come to a stop next to him, both looking down at the spit of land just off the coast. It looked so small, so vulnerable compared to the security of the castle that Arthur found himself almost swallowing nervously.

            “That’s Mora?” Merlin asked, not concealing the bemusement in his tone. Arthur scowled. It had been Gaius’ idea that he brought his new servant along on this mission, and Arthur had regretted it from the second they left Camelot. The man _never_ shut up.

            Except for now. There was a frown on his face when Arthur glanced at him.

            “What?” Arthur didn’t want to make it seem like he cared what Merlin thought, but the frown was a little disconcerting.

            “Are you really going down there to threaten them all?”

            “One of their residents threatened the life of the king. Threatened my life.”

            “You really think that was the real Lady Helen? Looked more like an old bat to me.”

            Arthur didn’t answer but nudged his horse. He didn’t want to admit he had been thinking the same thing. His father had been so outraged at just how close to being killed Arthur had come – in his own court as well – that he ordered the prince to collect a one-off tax from the people of Mora in a sign of good faith. But Arthur had seen the magic as the spell had worn off; he knew that had not been Lady Helen.

            But the King’s order had been given and Arthur would take any excuse to go for a ride in the countryside. Knowing that Merlin was following him, he took off for the coast, aware of more than one good spot for a night’s rest.

            They made good time and set up camp in a secluded spot. Arthur checked his saddlebags, making sure the loot he had taken from Camelot was still there. Merlin clearly heard the chink of gold.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Nothing.”

            “Then why are you carrying the gold?”

            “Shut up, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur scoffed, throwing himself down on his bedroll. He heard Merlin take in a sharp breath.

            “You aren’t going to impose the tax on them, are you? You’re making it seem like you’re riding for Mora, but you’re not planning on crossing to the island, are you?”

            “I thought I told you to shut up?” Arthur huffed, turning away so Merlin didn’t see him blush. He had it spot on. The Isle of Mora had done nothing wrong and Arthur found himself wondering what had happened to the real Helen. The chances were they were a citizen shorter now. He wasn’t going to fine them for that.

            Not to mention he knew from past experience the island was cold and windy. He didn’t really have any desire to step foot on it, but he knew he had to get close enough for people to believe he had. He would just camp here, head back in the morning and pay his father his own gold.

            It would be enough to settle the matter.

            Providing Merlin kept his mouth shut.


	6. Caves of Balor

            Nimueh had never visited this place before.

            She had heard stories, legends even. Huge spiders were send to roam the walls within as if they controlled the place, while mystical beasts guarded the entrance and prevented any unwary traveller from venturing further. Creatures of magic were of no concern to her, although they may prove useful if her plan was to work.

            What she desired was something far more subtle. Her plan with the avanc had failed, much to her dismay. Years of work had gone into that, perfecting the art of creating the creature and knowing what the effects of its presence would be. Her victory over Uther Pendragon had been foiled; all at the hands of a serving boy who the king would have executed faster than blinking if he knew.

            If it had been any other situation, Nimueh would have extended a hand of friendship to this boy. It was clear he was powerful and magic wasn’t what it used to be. He could help her conquer the world. If she thought it would work, she would take him by force and bend him to her will. But that had been when she had found out who his guardian was.

            Gaius would be too protective over the boy, just how he had always been over those he cared about. Nimueh knew her time was coming, she had to find a way to weaken if not destroy Camelot. She knew of the peace treaty that was being organised and knew it was the perfect time to strike. Merlin would no longer be an obstacle and if she played her cards right, Uther’s heir would also be destroyed. The prince wasn’t relevant though.

            Nimueh knew he had a great destiny ahead of him. If his father was killed, the prince would be left homeless with no inheritance and no future if she did this right. He would be of no consequence to her.

            But before she could do anything, she first had to get what she came for. Although stories were told about the Caves of Balor, Nimueh found herself grateful that she didn’t have to enter them – yet, anyway. What she had come for was on the surface, and it didn’t take her long to pluck a small flower from in the roots of the tree. Merlin would pay for helping Uther.

            Before she left, however, Nimueh found herself placing her hand on the ground and releasing a tendril of power into the earth. She knew to prepare for all eventualities and her scrying had revealed that Merlin was close to the prince. There was a chance he would come seeking a cure. Nimueh couldn’t let that happen, and had to make sure it was her voice the walls answered to when the time came rather than any of the rumoured creatures that lived here.

The earth trembled under her hand for an instant as she weakened the structure. When Nimueh stood up, however, a satisfied smirk was on her face.

Uther’s time was over.

It was time for magic to reign once again.


	7. Greenswood

Lancelot didn’t know why he had decided to come here.

It just seemed to be the first direction that entered his head when he had left Camelot. The griffin had allowed him to enter the city, but his own lies had forced him to leave. He should have known that it was never going to work, that his destiny clearly lay beyond Camelot regardless of what he wanted.

But it had been worth it. Worth it because he had helped defeat an evil that was plaguing the land. He knew that Merlin had been the reason why the Griffin had fallen, but Lancelot knew he had played his part. Was still playing his part in fact, for leaving meant he was keeping Merlin’s secret.

He was just disappointed that he hadn’t had the chance to get to know Guinevere more.

Still, that didn’t matter for now. After a night at an inn that he vowed never to return to, Lancelot knew what he had to do. He might have helped destroy the Griffin, but the damage had still been caused by the beast. Maybe it was the creature rather than Camelot that had drawn him close at the right time, maybe _that_ was his destiny. To help fight against the creature.

Greenswood was the first village that he came to that had been almost destroyed. He knew that technically, he was still within Camelot’s borders, but he didn’t think anyone would notice him. Everything was in turmoil here and no one seemed to know who was where as it was. Uther wouldn’t come looking for him here, not when he had refugees to send on their way and no doubt a banquet to host to Arthur defeating the creature. He would never let it be known that it was a banished man who had struck the blow.

Despite knowing that he couldn’t stay long – that was too risky – Lancelot was determined that he was going to do something to help. To start with it was just chopping wood to help rebuild roofs. The Griffin seemed to have torn off the thatching, clearly searching for other victims rather than just the buildings. But as the days grew into weeks, Lancelot found himself settling to village life. It would take a long time before life returned to normal for all of the crops had been destroyed in the raid and each day was busy, long but good.

It couldn’t last though. Lancelot had known that from the start. It was a summer’s day when a young boy ran back into the village yelling that a patrol from Camelot would soon be passing through to check on their recovery progress, despite the fact that it had been months.

But when people turned to talk about the news, Lancelot found himself packing his belongings and taking to the road once more. He couldn’t risk it, not now the village had successfully survived the attack. It seemed his destiny truly did lie somewhere else and it was with a heavy heart that Lancelot shouldered his bag and left the village of Greenswood behind him.


	8. Western Isles

            Merlin had never heard of the Western Isles before coming to Camelot.

            It wasn’t until Valiant had ridden up with his enchanted snakes and tried to kill Arthur that he even knew it existed. That had been a trying time for Merlin. It was hard enough trying to deal with the complete prat of a prince on the best of days, let alone when someone thought it would be a good idea to challenge him. Despite knowing that it was him revealing the snakes that had ultimately led to Arthur being able to defeat Valiant, Merlin had to admit the prince had held his ground well. After all, Merlin wasn’t the one who had actually fought the man.

            But still, staring at the great tome in front of him, Merlin wasn’t sure he had any inspiration to find out anything more about the spit of land he was supposed to be visiting with Arthur. The King wanted to see if the isle was truly practicing magic the way Valiant had been or whether he was just a rogue knight gone wild. Considering this was the second person who had journeyed into Camelot, used magic and tried to kill Arthur, it wasn’t truly surprising the man was getting paranoid.

            When Merlin had finally plucked up the courage to actually ask Arthur where the Western Isles were, the only answer he had received in response was a sarcastic “west”. Yet by that evening, the book had arrived in Gaius’ chambers. It was filled of maps and the lands surrounding Camelot, both under her control and just beyond her borders. Merlin had looked eagerly for Ealdor, but it was too far outside of Camelot’s control to be in her books.

            It had started of fascinating as Merlin realised the world was much bigger than he thought it was. Never mind the world, the kingdom was bigger. He had only really thought of Camelot as the castle, but there was so much more to it than that. It had taken an age before he had found the Western Isles and he realised that Arthur’s directions were accurate; it was right over to the edge of one page at the furthest most western point.

            It looked miles away and Merlin had let his head thunk down on the book in dismay. He felt like they had only just got back from one quest when they were being sent out on another. Did Arthur never get the chance to just stop? But thinking of what a prat Arthur was when he was bored, Merlin decided that he would rather him being kept busy, even if that meant Merlin had to tag along.

            He did have one worry, however.

            “Gaius?”         

            “Hmm?” the old man was barely listening as he studied the potion he was brewing. Merlin wasn’t entirely sure it was supposed to look like that, but he was in no position to say anything.

            “Will there be more snakes on the Western Isles?” Merlin asked, his voice full of concern.


	9. Idiroshlas

            Morgana had never been here before, but she had heard whispers. Stories of undead knights. Stories that she now knew to be true after what she had witnessed back in Camelot.

            Camelot.

            The thought alone made anger burn through her veins. The place where her friend had tried to kill her. Morgause had made it clear that Merlin had been acting selfishly, that he had wanted to try and control things that were far beyond the reach of a serving boy. His evilness had been revealed though and her sister had had no choice but to call off her men or risk losing Morgana.

            Even now, the thought that someone would give up their lives work to save her made her smile. Still, there was something that didn’t add up. Merlin had always helped them fight to save Camelot, he had helped her when she had first learnt of her powers. It wasn’t as if he knew what to do, but he had empathised in a way she hadn’t expected and, more importantly, he hadn’t told Arthur.

            There was something else going on, but right now, Morgana still felt too weak from the poison to think about it.

            She had been alarmed to awake in a strange, run-down place that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and shivers run down her spine. But then Morgause had appeared, reassuring her that Idirsholas was perfectly safe because the knights were under her control. No one would stand a chance against them and therefore that made them the perfect guards. No one, not a king, a prince, a knight or a servant would be able to hurt them here.

            At the back of Morgana’s mind, she realised that Morgause had just named all of her friends. But she knew the woman was looking out for her, she needed to stop being so paranoid and jumpy. Morgause had promised her Uther’s downfall and she still maintained that she would keep that promise. That flicker of hatred was the only thing certain in her confused mind and Morgana clung onto it.

            Despite the fortress being safe, Morgana knew no one would venture here. She had been at Court when the reports had come in, she had seen the disbelieving looks on their faces. Even now, everyone had been asleep during the attack and would no doubt find another meaning behind Arthur’s story. And if they did believe him; they still wouldn’t venture near.

            Morgana knew that she was safer in this ruin, surrounded by enchanted un-dead knights with her sister than she had ever been in Camelot. Even as she brushed a hand over a dusty slab and grimaced at the dirt now covering her hand, she held onto that feeling. Idirsholas would be brought to life again, and she would be the one to control it.

            No longer would she be the scared ward of King Uther. She would learn precisely who she was.

            This place had allowed her the freedom she had been seeking. All because of a rumour and some magic.


	10. The Rising Sun

            Gwaine didn’t think much of the taverns in Camelot. More than once he had joked that he would move on from being a knight just to find somewhere better to drink and just relax. But although Lancelot had always had a soft smile on his face – a sign he knew Gwaine was joking – Leon tended to go into lecture mode. Gwaine had learnt the knack of tuning it out, but it did mean that he had stopped making the jokes.

            There was one saving grace though.

            The Rising Sun.

            Now that was a tavern that knew how to serve his needs.

            The best part of it was, it served everyone. He knew all the knights – including Leon – frequented it regularly, especially when things were peaceful and training was the same thing every day. He had dragged Merlin on more than one occasion and one memorable time, even Arthur had shown up. He had claimed that he was looking for his wayward servant, but it didn’t escape Gwaine’s notice how it didn’t take much persuasion for Arthur to stay.

            That was where Gwaine was now, sitting in a corner and nursing a mug of ale. The taste was bitter in his mouth this time, he wasn’t in the mood. How could he be when they had returned from their quest with a knight less? Lancelot was a good friend and an even better man. It still felt strange that he wasn’t here anymore.

            Gwaine was supposed to be at training but his heart really wasn’t in it. After nearly coming to blows with a knight whose name he couldn’t even remember over something small, Gwaine had decided it would just be better for everyone if he took refuge in his favourite place.

            “Want some company?” The voice made him jump and Gwaine looked up to find Percival and Elyan standing there. The same grief was in their eyes and Gwaine had to remind himself that he wasn’t the only one feeling it. He shrugged, not wanting to turn away his friends but not being able to bring himself to actually request company.

            They seemed to understand, however. Percival got three mugs, replacing Gwaine’s, and they sat there in silence. Gwaine had never thought of it before. He had always considered the Rising Sun to be a place of cheer and laughter whenever he needed. But now, when he needed a place to think, it provided that as well.

            “Here’s to a good man,” Elyan said, lifting his mug. Percival mirrored him.

            “A good friend,” he added and all three men drank deeply. Gwaine had no idea how long they were in there for, but by the time that darkness had fallen, they weren’t alone. Arthur, Merlin and Leon had joined them without a word, toasts being made frequently to their departed friend.

            By the end of the night, Gwaine knew one thing for sure. It wasn’t just the Rising Sun that had him staying in Camelot, but the tavern seemed to symbolise all of the reasons this was now home.


	11. Five Kingdoms

                One serving girl.

            Five Kingdoms.

            While grief still dominated her heart and her own home tried to recover from the recent losses at the battle of Camlann.

            Gwen had no idea what she was supposed to be doing and she didn’t know who to confide in. Percival and Leon seemed to be sticking together, sharing the grief for their deceased friends. But although Gwaine was a friend to her as well, Arthur had been so much more than that. And Gwen knew better than to think they would welcome her presence. They were trying to grieve friends, but she was trying to grieve a husband.

            Gaius couldn’t help either. The difference that had overcome the old man was alarming. As soon as they received news of Arthur’s death, he seemed to crumble in on himself. To start with, Gwen thought it was the loss of the king. But now she understood. Merlin wasn’t coming back either.

            So she was grieving a husband, a best friend, a dear friend and still trying to get over the loss of her brother.

            While a kingdom expected her to be strong and lead it. She had always thought that one kingdom was bad enough, but when the treaties had been sent to her to review, she realised that was far from the case. Arthur had somehow managed to bring them all together. He had united the land, brought the five kingdoms into a time of peace now that Morgana had fallen and the threat was no more.

            What would Gwen give so he could be around to see it?

            “My Lady? These require your attention.” The servant dipped a curtsey and backed off respectfully after placing some more papers in front of the queen. Gwen stared at them and resisted the urge to simply put her head down and cry. Or sleep. She wasn’t sure yet which was fighting for dominance.

            She hadn’t been born for this. She didn’t know what she was supposed to be doing. She should have been back in her small house with her father coming in from the forge asking what was for dinner.

            And yet… Yet she still somehow found the strength to pull the stack of papers towards her and begin reading. Arthur hadn’t just chosen her to be his wife. He had chosen her to be his queen, somehow seeing a leader in her that Gwen didn’t know existed. She might not know what she was doing. She might not want to know.

            But that didn’t mean she would stop.

            For Arthur. For Elyan, Lancelot, Gwaine. For Merlin.

            She would find a way to be the queen that they believed her to be. The five kingdoms may need her but that wasn’t what Gwen was determined she would succeed.

            It wasn’t the Five Kingdoms she fought for. But the five men that she had lost one way or another. For them, she would make sure this stayed a time of peace and prosperity. She would make their sacrifices worth it.

            One way or another.


	12. Northern Plains

            It was cold.

            So very cold.

            But Morgana knew that wasn’t truly what had her shivering. Even with Aithusa at her side, faithful as ever, she had never felt so alone. When her clues began to lead her to this place, she refused to believe that it was true. Why would her search take her here? Back to the place where everything had gone wrong.

            She had been raised on the story since she was old enough to understand how Gorlois – the only man she had ever been proud to call father – had died. It was out here, on the Northern Plains where his army had been outnumbered when the promised reinforcements had never arrived.

            Now, however, Morgana knew Uther had betrayed her father in more than one way that day. After all, from what she had pieced together and what Morgause had told her, it had been during this time period that their mother had been unfaithful to Gorlois and lain with Uther.

            Her true father.

            The thought made her feel sick, yet her body only reacted by shivering again. She had been through that, she had learnt to deal with it. It should have stopped hurting years ago, especially when she had caused Uther’s death. But somehow, being here, the pain came back. It was like it had never left, but just been burning deep within her, ready to send fire rushing through her frozen body when she needed it the most.

            How had Gorlois felt, standing out here on the frozen plains while his scouts reported that there was nothing to report; that reinforcements were not on their way and they would have to fight alone. It was a barren place, nothing growing through the snow. Morgana wasn’t sure anything would grow even in the peaks of the summer in this desolate place. It certainly wouldn’t be a place she would come by choice, and she knew that would aid her.

            No one would look for her here. No one ventured this far north unless it was for a specific reason. And Arthur wouldn’t think that she would come here because of the memories it held for her. Hatred twisted in her gut when she thought about Arthur. He had always told her that father would have fought bravely and would have defied the odds until he was overwhelmed. No doubt that was what Uther had told him.

            Liars, the pair of them. But she wouldn’t let that get to her now. Now would be her moment to shine, and then she would kill the current king just the way she had killed the old one.

            Camelot would be hers.

            Carefully obscuring her face with her hood, Morgana moved forward. The rumours had come from a source she knew not to doubt. Here had been her father’s downfall. But this would be where she succeed. She would obtain what she needed to seize power and then she would take what should have been hers by birth right.

            The Northern Plains would bow to her.


	13. Darkling Woods

            Merlin had his knees drawn up to his chest as he nestled himself in the roots of an old tree.

            He had been seeking sanctuary in the Darkling Woods since he had been coming to Camelot. He had hunted them with Arthur, he had hidden in them when Morgana had taken over Camelot. So many times he had fled out here in order to seek the advice and magic of his eldest friend.

            Merlin just never thought he would be the one hiding because he was being hunted. He should have known letting the knights pick up his trail after Catrina had ordered him to be arrested wouldn’t work. Well, it did in the sense that they were off gallivanting around the forest looking for him. But the gates had been sealed and right now, Merlin had no idea how he was supposed to get back into the citadel.

            He knew the woods though, and knew that he could use that to his advantage. After making sure that he had lost the knights, Merlin made sure that he couldn’t be seen and folded himself into an old tree. The only way someone would be able to see him was if they were looking directly at him.

            Letting his hand run over the rough bark of the tree, Merlin sighed. He should have known that she wouldn’t let him go. After all, if killing him hadn’t worked, she had to make sure he was at the very least disgraced and driven from Camelot so that no one would believe what she was saying about him.

            He wasn’t sure if it was his own thoughts that caused him to shiver or the dropping temperature. All he knew was that he couldn’t risk a fire and was going to have to just hope that the temperature didn’t drop too low.

            Hearing the sound of thudding boots, Merlin felt his heart pound in time to meet the soldier’s footfalls. He drew his legs in closer and let the tree shelter him. The Darkling Woods had provided them with everything they needed in the past, even if it was just a place to vent frustration when the atmosphere got too stifling in the castle. Merlin had to trust that it would give him everything he needed to survive the night.

            As darkness fell, the sounds of the soldiers drew away and Merlin found he was allowing himself to breathe a little easier. He knew that he had to move, there was no way he could sleep here. Climbing to his feet, Merlin placed a grateful hand on the trunk on the oak, trying to portray his gratitude towards it for sheltering him before moving off.

            But nature wanted to have the last word. For even as Merlin moved to search for somewhere safe for the night, a root seemed to snag against his foot and sent him tumbling back to the floor. Yet as he fell, Merlin’s new position granted him access to see the entrance to a well-concealed cave.

            It seemed the Darkling Woods was once again giving him what he needed.           


	14. Gedref

            “I never thought I’d come back here,” Merlin mused, lying on his side as he stared at the flickering flame. Across from him, he saw Arthur’s eyes quickly rise, and then drop again as if he didn’t want anyone to notice him acknowledging his servant’s words. Merlin would have been annoyed if he hadn’t known that Arthur didn’t realise he was doing it.

            “Me neither,” the king admitted, taking Merlin by surprise.

            “Really? Even when you thought you were going to marry Mithian despite still loving Gwen – which, if you ask me was completely stupid from the start yet no one did ask me -,”

            “Merlin.”

            “Sorry. It’s just… It feels so long ago. The labyrinth, thinking I was going to watch you die and instead you just sent yourself to sleep. I didn’t want to come back here under any circumstances but knowing that once again your life is in danger…” Merlin trailed off, not knowing what else to say. It wasn’t just Gedref that had him on edge these days, it was anywhere outside of Camelot. It was as if infiltrating the castle wasn’t enough anymore, they had enemies everywhere.

            “It was a long time ago,” Arthur admitted softly, shifting position by the fire. Merlin couldn’t help but note how Arthur had moved so it was easier to talk. “I was just a child then.”

            “We both were,” Merlin said quietly, a smile on his face. It had taken a long time until he could look back at the events with the unicorn and smile, but now he could see how much they had all learnt from the experience.

            “I don’t know, you seem to think it was a bad idea from the start.”

            “Does that mean you are admitting that I was right?”

            “Nah,” Arthur grinned even as he spoke and Merlin shook his head fondly. Things had changed since then, and not necessarily because they now seemed to be constantly seeing enemies everywhere. Merlin might still live in secret, but he knew how to be open about what mattered (apart from the magic). And Arthur… Arthur had changed so much since then that Merlin could scarcely believe that he was the same man. If anything, he would say their experiences at the labyrinth was the start of Arthur changing. He had learnt that actions have consequences, even if he was royalty.

            Thinking about mistakes and rash behaviour, Merlin sighed.

            “Are you sure this is the right thing to do? Who knows what sort of army Odin is massing in Nemeth. You gave them Gedref, we are technically in their land already. Couldn’t you negotiate?”

            “Odin killed my father. He has taken Nemeth by force. This isn’t just about Gedref, it’s about everything.”

            Merlin knew there was no comeback for that and he let Arthur brood in silence for a while. But right now, even as they passed through the lands of Gedref once again, he had to wonder if this was more of a labyrinth than they had encountered all those years ago.


	15. Stocks

            All in all, Merlin thought it could have been a lot worse.

            He had insulted the king (in front of him, although how was he to know Uther was standing behind him? He might have magic; he didn’t have eyes in the back of his head), spilt a pitcher of wine down Lady Beaufort’s new dress (Merlin still claimed she had stuck her foot out on purpose) and managed to hit Arthur in front of everyone (which was completely unfair because he couldn’t land a blow when he was trying, how was it when he just slipped he managed to send the prince reeling back?).

            So finding himself in the stocks felt like a lucky escape. At least he still had his head this way. He knew it was Arthur’s interference that had stopped him from ending up in the cells or, even worse, being banished from Camelot. He was only just getting used to the idea that he had a destiny and realising that Arthur wasn’t quite so much of the prat that he liked everyone to think. It would do Merlin no favours to be flung from the city now.

            Although so saying, he was fast losing the enjoyment of having things thrown at him. He would have thought considering the amount of time he had been in the stocks that people would have started to look for some new entertainment rather than still finding the pleasure in pelting things at him. But nope, people were still happily throwing things.

            “Having fun?”

            Merlin wished it was easier to crane his head around so he could glare at the smirk he knew to be on Arthur’s face. There was far too much amusement in his voice as it was, but Merlin’s glare only reached Arthur’s boots because of the position he was in. Boots, he couldn’t help but note, he had polished only the day before.

            “Can join me if you like?” Merlin quipped, determined to have some sort of comeback. As Arthur moved, Merlin groaned. Of course, the prince wasn’t going to think that Merlin meant in the stocks. All Merlin could do was squeeze his eyes shut when Arthur picked up a tomato, knowing the prince’s aim was far better than those of the villagers.

            “Why yes, Merlin, I think I will join in.”

            Merlin had never regretted words so much as he did in that moment. Within seconds, he was dripping fruit and the villagers were standing around, watching.

            “You know I didn’t mean to hit you,” Merlin spat some tomato out of his mouth as he spoke, trying to glare up at Arthur.

            “I know. Because if you did that would have been practically suicidal of you. You’re just too much of an idiot for your own good, you know that, don’t you?”

            Merlin didn’t answer but found himself wondering if he could turn Arthur into a toad and just get away with some time in the stocks for it. Still, at least they weren’t throwing potatoes.

            Yet.


End file.
